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THE 

EGYPTIAN RING 


BY / 

NELLIE T. SAWYER 


THE 

Bbbcy press 

PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 

XonDon NEW YORK /Biontreal 




/ 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Copifcsi Received 

MAY. 25 1901 

Copyright entry 

}yiaMW.>9o/ 
CLAS? ^S/XXa N«. 
/OP 0^ 
COPY B. 


Copyright, 1901, 
by 

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TO BEATRICE, 

MY LOVING AND DEVOTED DAUGHTER, 
MY FAITHFUL AND APPRECIATIVE FRIEND, 
THIS STORY IS DEDICATED 
" < BY HER MOST 


^AFFECTIONATE MOTHER.’’ 


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THE EGYPTIAN RING? 


CHAPTER I, 

“ Can it be ? Are you living, my queen ? 

1 thought I had lost you forever.” 

— W. W. Story. 

Mr. Mark Anthony, bachelor, sat in his 
luxurious breakfast-room, on Beacon Street, 
Boston, one bright, crisp November morning, 
leisurely enjoying his rolls and coffee; in one 
hand he balanced a cup of fragrant Java, while 
the other held the morning paper which he read 
while he sipped his coffee. 

Ah ! what’s this ? ” he exclaimed, and he re- 
read the following lines : 

"'To Art Lovers. 

" The lovers of Art in Boston and vicinity 
will be gratified to learn that the famous an- 

5 


6 


The Egyptian Ring. 

tique painting of Cleopatra which has createci 
such a furore abroad has, after many negotia- 
tions, been secured for exhibition in America.; 
It is now well hung at the Museum of Fine 
Arts, Copley Square, where all who admire an- 
tique Art should not fail to visit it. It is stated 
upon authority that there is no one on earth at 
the present day who knows anything of the 
past history of this remarkable picture, but it is 
believed by antiquarians and Egyptologists to 
be the most nearly correct of any of the numer- 
ous pictures painted of the lovely and unfortu- 
nate Queen.’' 

It would be well to explain at this point that 
Mr. Mark Anthony was a wealthy gentleman 
of leisure, who, instead of allowing his taste to 
run to comic opera singers, fast horses, and 
kindred subjects, had early in life become a 
student of all that was best in the past history 
of the world ; in fact, a mild, entertaining and 
lovable antiquarian; latterly he had become 
much absorbed and interested in Egyptian his- 
tory and art, so that it was in no way surprising 
that the notice in his morning paper interested 
him greatly. 


7 


The Egyptian Ring. 

By George! '' he said aloud, “ I'll just run 
down to Jacobs^ to see if those scarabs have ar- 
rived, and then I’ll take a run over to the Art 
Museum to see the alluring Cleopatra. I will 
be among the first of her modern adorers to 
call and pay my devoir. It’s a charming morn- 
ing for a good brisk walk.” 

An hour later Mr. Anthony was wending his 
way down Beacon Street to the little bric-a- 
brac shop kept by the genial Mr. Jacobs. Hav- 
ing settled his business there satisfactorily, he 
retraced his steps and proceeded towards the 
famous Copley Square and the Art Museum. 
The morning air was delightful and invigorat- 
ing, and Anthony, in the prime of healthy man- 
hood, drank in large draughts of it and en- 
joyed his walk as only a perfectly normal, 
healthy, wealthy, carefree man could. 

As he approached one of the stateliest of the 
many fine residences upon Beacon Street, the 
door was suddenly thrown open and a lady de- 
scended the steps and entered a coupe waiting 
for her. 

Anthony had approached very near to the 
lady as she reached the sidewalk, and his keen 
and cultivated eye noted each minute detail of 


8 


The Egyptian Ring. ' ' 

her face and attire. To his eyes she seemed 
neither young or old, but a perfect specimen of 
mature womanhood. She was very beautiful, 
but entirely unlike the type of woman affected 
by the morbid taste of the present day. She 
was not lank and bony and taller than the aver- 
age man; not at all ; she was the antithesis of all 
this ; for she was little over five feet tall, plump 
and round as a cherub, with medium coloring, 
neither very dark nor fair, but glowing with 
health. 

Her hair was wonderful ; a warm dark brown 
in color, and breaking all around her brow in 
waves and curls, which required no crimping 
irons to make them beautiful. Her eyes were 
large, expressive, deep blue in color, and 
fringed with heavy, dark lashes. When she 
looked at one, it was with the open-eyed, inno- 
cent look of a child. Her mouth was delicately 
formed, with the least suggestion of a Clytie- 
like droop at the corners, while the dainty chin 
was round, deeply dimpled and womanly. 

She was dressed in exquisite taste ; her plain 
morning costume was a beautiful shade of 
brown, the color of a faded leaf — ^perhaps a 
little deeper in tint, like chestnuts in October. 


The Egyptian Ring. 


9 


She wore a very small bonnet of brown velvet, 
with tiny, upstanding plumes of brown, relieved 
by one of turquoise blue. Around her neck 
was a collar of sealskin. 

“ What a poem of a woman ! thought An- 
thony as he strode along; “she might be 
Cleopatra herself. I wonder who she can be? 
I see she is staying at the Patricks’. I’ll find 
out as I’m a sinner.” 

He walked hurriedly along, musing, as he 
went his way, of the vision which had just 
crossed his path. 

Finally he found himself at the portals of the 
Art Museum. He entered and proceeded to 
the great exhibition hall where the Cleopatra 
was hung. Already a crowd of people were 
standing before the canvas, criticising and chat- 
ting, after the manner of modern society, which 
is, perhaps, but a repetition of the old. 

“ How d’ye do, Anthony ? ” said a languid 
youth with a monocle in his eye, and a chrys- 
anthemum in his buttonhole almost large 
enough for a duster. “ Delightful girl, isn’t 
she ? but too short, and not a bit Egyptian.” 

Anthony brought all his antique lore to bear 
upon the monocle and chrysanthemum combi- 


J 


10 The Egyptian Ring. 

nation, explaining as he edged his way nearer 
the painting that Cleopatra was a short woman, 
as was proven by her mummy in the British 
Museum, which measured only five feet; and 
that she was not an Egyptian but a Greek wo- 
man. 

“ By Jove ! you don't say so, Mark ? But of 
course you know. You've been dabbling in 
that sort of thing for years, old boy. Never 
could seem to do anything in that line myself, 
you know; but I'm deuced glad to know the 
truth. I say, Anthony, the Marc Antony 
might have been painted from yourself. Put 
you in those Roman togs, and there you are, 
‘ the noblest Roman of them all.' But I must 
get away. I promised my tailor to call this 
morning." 

Anthony courteously bowed to the youth and 
turned to gaze his fill at the picture. He looked 
earnestly at it, then started back amazed. 

“ Good Heavens ! " he muttered, “ it is she, 
that beautiful woman I saw this morning on 
Beacon Street ! " 

Yes, there she reclined in the diaphanous 
robes of sunny Egypt. The same brown tresses 
gathered up under the royal ur^eus ; the same in- 


II 


The Egyptian Ring. 

nocent, trustful blue eyes gazing lovingly into 
the face of Marc Antony. One plump white 
hand held a pink lotus flower, and upon that 
hand Anthony noticed a peculiar ring, painted 
with marvellous fidelity to truth. The bezel or 
top of the ring consisted of an Egyptian scara- 
bseus, cut from a -solid piece of turquoise ; the 
setting, which was of deep yellow gold, ended 
at each side of the scarab with a carved lotus 
flower. It was an odd and beautiful ring, and 
thoroughly Egyptian in character. 

From the white hand his gaze wandered to 
the Marc Antony of the picture. 

“ By George ! I think that idiot Gerard was 
right. It does look like myself as I see my 
own phiz in the glass every day. I hope to 
goodness,’’ he thought, that none of these 
noodles will notice it. What a rich morsel they 
would make of it at the club ! In conjunction 
with my confounded name, too ! I never could 
see what the dear old Pater insisted on naming 
me Mark for. I suppose he thought that was 
the proper thing to go with Anthony, having 
the Roman precedent.” 

Anthony continued to gaze at the picture, 
studying carefully every line and detail; then, 


12 


The Egyptian Ring. " 

feeling slightly fatigued, he bethought him of 
the settees behind him, placed there for the con- 
venience of visitors. He turned to find an un- 
occupied seat and found himself face to face 
with the lovely vision of the morning — the 
living embodiment of the antique Cleopatra. 

His face took on a look of amazement, and 
her own seemed no whit less disturbed. 

She looked in astonishment from the man to 
the picture, and back again to the man. 

“ Oh, Lord ! ” he thought, she has seen it, 
too ; and here comes Paul Derby and he'll give 
me my deathblow by shouting my confounded 
name in stentorian tones. His lung power is 
equal to Victor Maurel’s.^^ 

“ Hello, old boy ! shouted Derby, glad to 
meet you here. You are such an authority, you 
know, upon the serpent of the Nile. Ah! how 
d’ye do, Mrs. Patrick ? ” 

Then seeing the lady and his friend were 
strangers, he said : “ Allow me to present my 
dear friend, Mr. Mark Anthony. I wonder 
you have never met, as you are neighbors. No, 
I don’t either, for Anthony is everlastingly fly- 
ing off to the other end of the world.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 13 

Anthony murmured the usual polite nothings 
required by the existing occasion. 

“ I have only recently arrived home from 
Egypt,” he explained ; “ Mrs. Patrick probably 
took up her residence here in Boston during my 
absence. That explains our not having met be- 
fore; at least,” he added, reflectively, and gaz- 
ing upon the Cleopatra, ‘‘ not in Boston, nor,” 
he added, with a smile, in this century.” 

“ Oh, come now ! ” cried Derby, don’t give 
us any of your confounded re-incarnation busi- 
ness. I am not going to stand it. If you don’t 
keep away from Egypt, you’ll find your body 
nicely wrapped up in spices in a mummy case, 
and your soul will go travelling on, like John 
Brown’s, in search of it, in vain.” 

‘‘ I will be magnanimous,” laughed Anthony; 
henceforth you are spared re-incarnation.” 

Derby turned and began studying the picture 
before him ; suddenly he started and exclaimed : 
“ Upon my word, you might have posed for the 
Cleopatra yourself, Mrs. Patrick. Don’t you 
see the resemblance, Mark? ” 

Indeed I do,” answered Mark. 

Mrs. Patrick looked quickly up. I cannof 
answer for the Cleopatra,” she said, ‘‘ but I do 


14 


The Egyptian Ring. 


see a wonderful resemblance between your 
friend and the Roman Antony/’ 

"‘By Jove! yes,” said Derby, ‘‘what a strange 
coincidence I Here we have Antony and 
Cleopatra in the antique and a modern living 
replica. Delightful ! ” 

Mrs. Patrick gazed dreamily at the picture, 
her eyes wandered over its details until they 
rested upon the small white hand wearing the 
Egyptian ring. Suddenly she became excited. 

“ See,” she exclaimed, “ that ring 1 ” and has- 
tily pulling off her glove, she showed to the as- 
tonished men the exact counterpart of the 
painted ring upon her own hand. 

“ It is true, then,” she cried ; “ I never be- 
lieved it before. This zvas Cleopatra’s ring. I 
always doubted the story told about it.” 

“ What is the story, Mrs. Patrick ? ” asked 
Derby. “ Cannot you tell it to us ? Here are 
Anthony and myself just dying of curiosity.” 

“ Yes,” she said, “ I will tell you about it. 
It was this way : A few years ago my harum- 
scarum cousin. Max Stuart, went abroad, and 
after many months of Continental travel, found 
himself in Egypt. Having many influential 
friends, he was invited to be present at the 


The Egyptian Ring. 


IS 


official opening of a newly-discovered tomb, 
which promised to be of more than usual im- 
portance. That was just the sort of adventure 
Cousin Max liked ; so he was on hand, you may 
be sure. Among the principal ^ finds ’ that day 
was an unusually rich and elegant mummy case, 
which contained the body of a woman of great 
consequence, as the jewels and idols buried with 
the body testified. Cousin Max declared this 
ring which I wear dropped, unnoticed by the 
others, from the body during the unwrapping; 
and he, wishing to retain a souvenir of the oc- 
casion picked it up and placed it in his pocket. 

“ But the strangest thing of all this is the 
sequel: In the mummy case was found a 
well-preserved papyrus, which, upon being de- 
ciphered by experts, conveyed the information 
that the mummy case contained the embalmed 
body of Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt; that 
mummy is now in the British Museum, Lon- 
don.^^ 

Anthony and Derby examined both rings 
minutely — the pictured ring upon the hand of 
the Queen, and the real and tangible ring upon 
the hand of the living woman. 

.Wonderful ! exclaimed Anthony. 


1 6 The Egyptian Ring. 

You must beg your Cousin Max’s pardon 
in dust and ashes,” said Derby; ‘‘ just think 
what a treasure he gave to you, and how very 
ungrateful, not to say uncousinly, you have 
been.” 

Cleo Patrick laughed. 

“ Max is a great wag, Mr. Derby, fond of 
playing practical jokes. I suspected he was 
trying to palm off a modern ring for the gen- 
uine antique, or something of that nature, 
knowing my fondness for old and odd things. 
I always make due allowance for all Max 
says or does.” 

They continued talking upon all sorts of 
topics. Had she been to the Opera ? the 
Symphony Concerts? Had she seen Calve in 
“ Carmen ” ? Time flew by, and finally the 
lady declared she must really go. The gentle- 
men both escorted her to the carriage, and with 
uncovered heads bade her “ Adieu.” 

Anthony quickly turned to his friend. 
“ Who is she ? Tell me all about her.” 

“ What ! old man, are you hit after all these 
years?” exclaimed Derby, laughing. “Well, 
she is a sweet, womanly woman, a rare thing 
to find nowadays. Her name was Cleo 


17 


The Egyptian Ring. 

iVaughn; she was a New York girl and married 
old Sam Patrick’s son, Ned, several years ago. 
I think it must have been that winter you went 
to Rome, as you do not seem to know anything 
about it. I cannot see how you manage to 
keep track of any of your friends, for you are 
always roaming off somewhere to some heath- 
enish place. Anyway, Cleo came from a nice 
family ; is highly accomplished, I tell you ; plays 
the piano like Aus der Ohe, paints well, has 
read about everything written, I verily believe ; 
seen all the best operas, plays, and whatever is 
worth seeing ; visits all the Art exhibitions. In 
fact, ^ to know her, is a liberal education,’ to 
change Congreve a little ; and to crown all, she 
is modest and very sensible. Did you notice 
she had something on ? ” 

Yes,” answered Mark, I did notice that 
singular fact.” 

Oh, you know what I mean ; wrap, gar- 
ment, or whatever you call them. She’s about 
the only woman in Boston to-day who doesn’t 
go sailing off down-town ^ in her figger ’ as 
the old lady said. She looked nice and com- 
fortable. I do love to see a woman in nice furs. 
Have you noticed how the girls in Boston 

2 


i8 


The Egyptian Ring. 


dress? or rather undress lately? They wear 
July clothes in December and their lips are blue 
and their noses red."’ 

Delightful combination/’ said Mark. 

‘‘ Yes/’ continued Derby, “ and their teeth 
chatter like a baby’s rattle. I’m sick of them 
all; silly things! Just see how the Russians 
dress for cold weather. Great, loose, fur-lined 
coats, big, fur-lined boots and gloves like a 
prize-fighter’s. They know how to take com- 
fort even in winter weather. Think of it ! I 
heard my sister tell her dear friend, the other 
day, that she wore silk or lisle-thread hose all 
winter, and made very little difference in her 
clothing summer or winter. I felt like shaking 
a little sense into her. Talk about Russia; we 
have weather here in Boston which would dis- 
count Russia any day.” 

‘‘ See here, Derby,” said Mark, impatiently, 
I thought you were telling me about Mrs. 
Patrick? You’re a nice fellow to ask informa- 
tion of. I ask about Mrs. Patrick, and you 
give me an offhand lecture on winter clothing. 
Now tell me, where’s her husband? ” 

“What, Ned? Oh, he’s dead; he was a 
dreadful fellow, a drinking, gambling, care- for- 


19 


The Egyptian Ring. 

naught; spent all her money and nearly broke 
her heart, but he managed to kill himself, and a 
good job, too; died respectably in his bed. 
Very kind of him, I'm sure." 

‘‘Any children?" said Mark. 

Two ; a boy and a girl. Splendid children. 
And she's the most devoted and charming 
mother in the world. It is positively beautiful 
to see them together." 

Does she reside permanently at the Pat- 
ricks' ? " asked Mark. 

Yes, indeed. The old folks adore her and 
the children. She is all they have now, and 
they do their best to spoil her, if that were 
possible. But I say, Mark, I'm a little hit my- 
self. I cannot have you coming upon the field 
and ruining my chances." 

Mark laughed and thanked his friend for 
the information so willingly given; and plead- 
ing a business engagement, the friends parted at 
the entrance to the Art Museum. 


20 


The Egyptian Ring. 


CHAPTER II. 

“ Earth’s noblest thing, a woman perfected.” 

— J. R. Lowell. 

Mark Anthony met Mrs. Patrick fre- 
quently during the winter. His friends re- 
marked upon the change in his habits. For- 
merly almost a recluse, he suddenly developed a 
taste for afternoon teas and receptions, rather 
unexpected in an antiquarian. He seemed to 
be ubiquitous. 

Cleo was present at many of these functions, 
and even the most obtuse of his friends could 
hardly fail to observe his admiration for the 
beautiful widow. She had invited him to call 
in her kindest manner, and he had responded 
with alacrity. In fact, during the last two 
months they had become warm friends. She 
sincerely liked the kindly, serious and respectful 
gentleman, so dignified and scholarly, and so 
entirely unlike the average society man. They 
enjoyed long, delightful conversations upon all 
sorts of subjects, and their admiration and es- 


The Egyptian Ring. 21 

teem for each other strengthened with their ac- 
quaintance. 

They had talked long and earnestly one after- 
noon in January, and finally the conversation 
drifted to a grand reception to be given the 
following night by a mutual friend. 

'' You will go, of course ? he said. 

I suppose so,” answered Cleo ; I wish I 
could avoid going, really. I like the Thayers 
immensely, but I do not care for that sort of 
thing; it is quite a trial for me. I must be 
growing old,” she added, with a smile, but 
Mrs. Thayer insisted so upon my coming, I 
could not refuse.” 

‘‘ May I send you some flowers ? What 
color shall I send? I do not want to get any- 
thing that will spoil your toilette.” 

Thank you ; you are most kind. I will 
wear your flowers with pleasure. I should pre- 
fer something pink.” 

“ It really ought to be the lotus,” he said. 

Cleopatra ought never to wear any other 
flower, but I am afraid that is impossible in 
Boston in January. What a shame we are. not 
in Egypt ! Do you know,” he exclaimed sud- 
denly, it always seems to me that you are 


22 


The Egyptian Ring. 


Cleopatra. I do not mean the old Cleopatra 
with all her naughtiness, but a re-incarnation of 
her spirit, purified by suffering and death, come 
back to earth to redeem her past. Do you be- 
lieve in metempsychosis ? Sometimes,” he con- 
tinued, gazing intently upon her, “ it seems to 
me that you and I have been together ages ago, 
in that wondrous old Egypt I love so well. 
Wiho knows ! — perhaps you were Cleopatra and 
I, Marc Antony.” 

Mrs. Patrick gave him a happy, smiling 
glance. ‘‘ Now you are wading fathoms deep 
in the occult,” she said. “ You are too learned 
for me. I believe, if we knew the truth, that 
you are a Buddhist, or, in plain, every-day Bos- 
tonese, a Theosophist. Well, it is a fascinating 
study. Your words remind me of some lines 
in ‘ The Light of Asia ’ I was reading just 
before you came in. Ah ! here it is.” 

She picked up the book and hastily began 
turning the leaves. Here it is now 

“ We were not strangers, as to us, and all it seemed. 

Thus I was he, and she, Yasodhara; 

And W'hile the wheel of birth and death turns round, 

That which hath been, must be between us two.” 


23 


The Egyptian Ring. 

She stopped suddenly and blushed a rosy red, 
as the full import of the words flashed through 
her mind. 

‘‘ Yes, that is it,'* he cried excitedly. '' I do 
believe that two souls once united by genuine 
love and affection can never be eternally sepa- 
rated or kept apart. Sooner or later, they will 
gravitate together. It is ' Kismet,’ ” he said 
earnestly. “No, not death, nor marriage, nor 
time, nor distance, can keep those souls apart. 
Romanist, Protestant, Buddhist, what does it 
matter ? The highest type of love between man 
and woman is all there is of Heaven on earth to- 
day.” 

He stopped suddenly, as a servant appeared 
with a card which she handed to Cleo. 

“ You have a caller and I must go,” he said. 
“ It is near dinner-time and Auntie Hoyt, my 
dear old housekeeper, will fret if Fm late.” 

“ Ah ! good-afternoon, Mrs. Thayer,” he ex- 
claimed as that lady appeared in the doorway. 
“ I am just taking my leave, and you will have 
the field all to yourself. I suppose everything 
is perfected for to-morrow night, mansion, 
gown, and feast, — or ought I to have put the 
gown first ? ” he asked, mischievously. “ What 


24 


The Egyptian Ring. 

an everlasting amount of work, trouble, and 
expense to amuse your friends for an hour or 
two ! ’’ 

‘‘ You’ll be sure to come, Mark? ” said Mrs. 
Thayer, who had been his mother’s friend. 

“ Oh, yes ! you may count on me. You know 
I always come to you, Mrs. Thayer. And now 
I must run home to Auntie Hoyt and so escape 
a scolding.” And with a courtly bow he left 
the room. 

Mark Anthony’s head was in a whirl when he 
left the Patrick mansion. He realized now 
how devotedly he loved Cleo Patrick. It had 
come to him like a revelation during their last 
conversation. “ I believe,” he mused to him- 
self, I should have blurted it all out had it 
not been for Mrs. Thayer’s coming.” 

He returned home like one in a dream. He 
did not perceive the friends who nodded to him ; 
he was surprised upon taking off his overcoat 
to find traces of fine snow upon it; he had not 
noticed it was snowing. He made a desperate 
effort to pull himself together, and appear like 
a rational being during his lonely meal, lest the 
keen eyes of “ Auntie Hoyt,” who always 


The Egyptian Ring. 25 

waited upon him herself, should discern his ex- 
cited condition. 

After dinner, he drew a large armchair di- 
rectly in front of the open grate fire, and tried 
to compose himself by reading ; he took a book 
at random from the table, and mechanically 
opening it, began to read. It was a volume of 
poems by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. His eye 
rested upon the open page, and this is what he 
read: , 

“ I have been here before, 

But when or how, I cannot tell ; 

I know the grass beyond the door. 

The keen, sweet smell. 

The sighing sound, the lights around the shore. 

“ You have been mine before. 

How long ago I may not know ; 

But, just when at that swallow’s soar 
Your neck turned so. 

Some veil did fall — I knew it all of yore.” 

The book dropped from his hand with a bang, 
but he heeded not. His thoughts were busy 
with the woman he loved. ‘‘If only she loves 
me,'' he sighed, “ she shall be my honored wife, 
and I will, by my devotion, try to make her 
forget that miserable, unhappy past. Shall I 
wait, or shall I tell her soon?, It is not long 


26 


The Egyptian Ring. 


since we met, I know; that is — this time — but 
you are right, Rossetti, ‘ she has been mine be- 
fore/ I know it ; and I must tell her soon. Al- 
ready we have lost too much time. Life is so 
short ; Eternity so long. We will go together 
to mystic Egypt. Together we will roam 
among its strange monuments and ruins. Yes,’^ 
he exclaimed, in Egypt we will be again An- 
tony and Cleopatra.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 


27 


CHAPTER III. 

“ The woman that now met, unshrinking, his gaze. 

Seemed to bask in the silent but sumptuous haze 
Of that soft second summer, more ripe than the first. 
Which returns when the bud to the blossom hath burst 
In despite of the stormiest April.” 

— Owen Meredith, “ Lucile.” 

“ Be my wife, my guide, my good angel, my all upon earth.” 

— “ Lucile.” 

The day of the great Thayer reception ar- 
rived. Cleo had already received her gown 
from the modiste — a beautiful costume of faded 
old rose crepe, exquisite in tint and texture. 
Late in the afternoon a box arrived from the 
florist's. She opened it, and uttering a cry of 
delight, lifted a mass of lovely pink water-lilies 
from their bed of soft, white cotton. 

Mark's card and a note lay on top of the 
flowers. Cleo opened the note and read : 

Dear Mrs. Patrick : 

The lotus is, alas ! impossible to achieve here 
in Boston at such short notice, but I have found 


28 The Egyptian Ring. 

its near relative, and in the color you desired. 
Cannot you, like Dickens’ ‘Little Marchioness,’ 
make believe very much, and so Cleopatra may 
wear the lotus to-night ? Anticipating the 
pleasure of meeting you at the reception this 
evening, I am, my dear Mrs. Patrick, 

“ Faithfully Yours, 

“ Anthony.” 

“ How delightful and appropriate,” she 
thought. She rang the bell, and as Elise ap- 
peared, ordered her to carefully place the 
flowers in water and put them in a cool place 
until she required them. 

It was rather late when Cleo entered Mrs. 
Thayer’s drawing-room that night. She looked 
like a picture descended from the canvas. For 
years she had not had so light a heart. As she 
entered the orchestra was playing the Inter- 
mezzo from “ Sylvia.” She greeted those who 
crowded around her and seemed in excellent 
spirits. She enjoyed the exquisite music, the 
superb floral decorations of the room, and the 
society of her friends, many of whom were 
present. 

“ How foolish I am,” she thought, ‘‘ that I 


29 


r • The Egyptian Ring. 

Ho not enjoy more of this beautiful life ; and it 
is all my own fault, for I am invited every- 
where.’’ 

She looked around among the happy throng, 
missing one face, the one she most desired to 
see. She looked and waited, and finally seek- 
ing out a quiet spot, sat down alone. 

There Mark found her a quarter of an hour 
later, after searching through the rooms in 
vain. 

“ My dear Mrs. Patrick ! ” he exclaimed, 

have you renounced ‘ the pomps and vanities 
of this wicked world ’ and turned nun ? ” 

No, indeed,” said Cleo, laughing, but 
someway I soon tire of it all. It wearies me, 
and it is very warm here.” 

So it is,” said Mark, “ awfully warm. We 
might go into the conservatory; it is delight- 
fully cool there. I have just left it.” 

He escorted her to the conservatory, and 
finding a cosy seat beside an Ionic column of 
Iwhite marble, turned to go. 

“ I am going to send some one for your 
wrap,” he said. It is almost too cool here for 
you. I will return immediately.” 

She found herself alone amidst the statues 


30 


The Egyptian Ring. 


and the flowers, thinking of this man who was 
so kind to and thoughtful of her, and who, she 
was afraid, occupied too large a share of her 
thoughts. 

Mark soon returned with her wrap and 
placed it carefully around her shoulders. Then 
he sat down nearby, and they fell into conver- 
sation. He told her of his lonely, wandering 
life. 

I have a fine home,’^ he said, but no home 
life compared to other men who have a wife 
and children. It is my own fault, I dare say; 
‘ man has delighted me not, no, nor woman 
either,’ until,” — he hesitated and faltered; and 
then he added in a low voice, ‘‘ until I saw you. 
Since then I have had but one thought, that one 
day you might care enough for me to become 
my wife.” 

Cleo looked startled. 

I know it is very soon, dear, and that you 
are quite unprepared for this, but I feel that I 
must speak; for I knew the first time I ever 
saw you, that you were the only woman in the 
world for me. I have been waiting for you, 
dear. Tell me, Cleo, am I too abrupt? — am I 


The Egyptian Ring. 31 

too presumptuous? — or do you, too, care for 
me a little? ” 

In a flash it came to her, how much she cared 
for this man who freely offered her everything 
the world most highly prizes — love, wealth, 
protection. Why should she hesitate? 

‘‘ Cleo,’’ he said at last, “ I am waiting for 
my answer. Will you be my loved and hon- 
ored wife? 

She slowly raised her eyes to his. My 
children ! '' she faltered — '' you forget my chil- 
dren. I cannot leave them.’’ 

Oh, Cleo ! is it possible you think so poorly 
of me? Part you from your children! Never, 
my darling. Your children shall be mine. 
Your beautiful motherhood is one of your 
greatest attractions to me. I respect and ad- 
mire you for your care of, and devotion to, your 
children. Would there were more such 
mothers. There is no obstacle,” he cried. 
*‘Cleo! won’t you answer? Will you be my 
wife? ” 

She put out her hands to him, and answered 
simply, Yes.” 

“ God bless you, my darling,” he cried. 

And may He deal with me as I do with yom” 


32 


The Egyptian Ring. 

Mark came very frequently to the house after 
their engagement, bringing Cleo such pretty 
offerings as a well-bred man may with pro- 
priety give to the woman he loves : choice 
books, fine photographs, exquisite flowers, and 
dainty bon-bons he heaped upon her with a 
lavish hand. He gave her but one jewel, her 
engagement ring, feeling rightly, that when she 
was his wife he could more appropriately give 
her costly jewels. 

Mark showed his original taste in his selec- 
tion of an engagement ring. I will not give 
her one of those cold glittering, great diamond 
solitaires,” he mused. ‘‘ Horrid things ! I de- 
test them.” 

Having ascertained that Cleo was born in the 
month of May, he determined to give her the 
stone sacred to her birth month, an emerald. 
So he searched through all the wares of the 
dealers in precious stones, until he found a large 
and flawless emerald, fit for a dudiess. This 
he ordered to be surrounded with the finest 
Persian turquoises for “ luck,” and to be placed 
in a unique setting of purest gold. It was a 
daring and strange combination of color, but 
the ring, when finished, exceeded in beauty and 


The Egyptian Ring. 33 

oddity even Mark’s most sanguine expectations. 
He next ordered a box to be made for it of 
pure white ivory, lined with ivory-white velvet, 
and carved upon the top with Cleo’s monogram 
in cipher. The whole was enclosed in a bag 
of rich turquoise blue brocade. 

3 


-4 


The Egyptian Ring. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ At every word, a reputation dies.” 

— A. Pope. 

Is there a more beautiful and luxurious place 
upon the civilized earth than the boudoir of a 
wealthy and tasteful woman of society? One 
afternoon in January several society belles sat 
at afternoon tea, gossipping, laughing, and en- 
joying themselves principally by dissecting the 
characters of their best friends, criticising their 
manners, style, and looks, and leaving the ab- 
sent unfortunates not a vestige of anything, ma- 
terial or otherwise, to bless themselves with. 

This boudoir was a bower of luxury and 
magnificence, fitted to suit the taste and whims 
of a woman of vast wealth, who denied herself 
absolutely nothing that money or influence 
could procure. The hangings of the walls, as 
well as the window draperies and several cush- 
ions, were of rose-colored moire antique silk; 
the window draperies and cushions were also 
covered by delicate filmy lace. The divan and 


The Egyptian Ring. 


35 


chair frames were heavily gilt, and upholstered 
with exquisite tapestry, in .Watteau scenes, of 
the loveliest old tints. The ceiling overhead 
was a dream of loveliness by Torjetti : Cupids 
and flowers and beautiful women floating upon 
sun-tinted clouds. The carpet was of rose- 
colored velvet, relieved here and there by rugs 
of pure white fur. A magnificently carved and 
gilded harp stood in one corner of the room. 
Upon the walls hung several fine copies of fa- 
mous paintings of beautiful women: Madame 
Pompadour, by Greuze ; Madame Recamier, by 
Gerard ; the Duchess of Devonshire, by Gains- 
borough, and others. Graceful palms and 
stately rubber-trees were placed in appropriate 
places, and a large, crystal, trumpet-shaped vase 
upon an onyx table contained a large bouquet 
of Mermet roses. 

The room reflected much of the taste and 
character of its owner; she, Vivian Sinclair, 
herself, was half reclining upon a divan, sip- 
ping tea, talking little, and listening to the 
conversation of her friends. She was listening 
now to an account of a reception given by a mu- 
tual friend. The speaker was Agnes Hastings, 
a tall, stylish girl with fluffy, blond hair, who 


The Egyptian Ring. 


36 

was acknowledged by all her friends to be the 
most original and daring of their set. When 
once started upon a favorite subject nothing 
daunted her, and friends and foes were alike 
fearful of what the result might be, for she sel- 
dom weighed her words. Very daring, audac- 
ious, and the leader of social frivolity, from her 
early youth, she had been a power unto herself. 

‘‘ Awfully sorry you could not go to the 
Thayer reception, Vivian. Shame you were ill. 
Every one was there but you. Florence Con- 
ant, in lavender (half mourning, you know), 
flirting with old Moneybags ; I mean old 
Parker ; showed her hand, I tell you.” 

Well,” responded Miss Sinclair, Florence 
is a handsome woman and quite fascinating, 
too, for a while, but she doesn’t wear well ; one 
sees through her flatteries.” 

Yes,” said another, “ Florence seems very 
sweet at first. She will get him if she only 
strikes while the iron is hot — before he sees 
through her wiles.” 

‘‘ Kitty Adams was there too,” continued 
Miss Hastings, ‘‘ in her usual made-over gown, 
trimmed with forget-me-nots, awfully touching 
and good. She was doing the missionary act. 


37 


The Egyptian Ring. 

watching the boys to see that they did not in- 
dulge in too much frappe, and lecturing them 
upon the iniquity of cigarette smoking. I saw 
‘ Jack ’ Graham go behind the door and make 
up a face at her. By the way, that reminds me, 
I think I’ll indulge now,” and suiting the ac- 
tion to the word, she plunged her hand into a 
little pocket in her tailor-made coat and brought 
forth her cigarette case — a dainty affair of 
silver, with her cipher set in turquoises, and also 
a tiny match-box of the same material. Se- 
lecting a cigarette, she coolly proceeded to light 
and enjoy the same. 

Beastly habit,” she continued ; don’t you 
think so ? Always nagging the poor boys.” 

Vivian looked up and smiled. Don’t worry 
about the poor boys, dear. I am sure they do 
not suffer very keenly.” 

No, I suppose they don’t,” said Agnes. 

But where was I ? Oh ! Cleo Patrick was 
there. She looked like a dream, as usual; be- 
side her the other women looked like night- 
mares. She wore one of those odd dresses she 
is so fond of, — a sort of glorified ‘ Mother 
Hubbard ’ as it were, — made of a faded shade 
of rose-color crepe ; entirely knife-pleated from 


38 


The Egyptian Ring. 

neck to floor and trimmed with bands of quaint, 
jewelled embroidery in a sort of Egyptian de- 
sign; lotus and all that. She did not wear a 
single jewel, excepting a turquoise serpent with 
diamond eyes and tongue, wound around her 
arm, and that everlasting Egyptian ring she 
always wears upon her hand. She looked like 
Cleopatra come to life. EIow fond she is of 
everything Egyptian ! She is about as bad as 
that crank, Mark Anthony. By the way, he 
was at Thayers’, and very attentive to Cleo- 
patra, too. Cleo carried the queerest bouquet 
you ever saw; just pink water-lilies tied to- 
gether with a pink satin ribbon.” 

At the mention of Mark Anthony’s name 
Vivian Sinclair started visibly, but her friends 
were so absorbed in the details of Cleopatra’s 
costume that her movement was unnoticed. 

Yes ! Mark was devoted to Cleo ; hung 
around her all the evening. Isn’t it wonder- 
ful? I wonder if he takes her for a re-incar- 
nated mummy? I never knew him to look 
twice at a woman before. I came upon them, 
and they were talking about that mysterious 
ring she wears. She told him she was con- 
vinced it had once belonged to the famous Cleo- 


39 


The Egyptian Ring. 

patra of history. Fancy that, if you please. 
She said that she had dreamed that the woman 
who wore that ring would always possess the 
devotion of the man she loved.” 

None of the others saw the look of hatred 
and malice which came into the face of the 
fair hostess. 

“ That ring ! ” she thought to herself. I 
must, I will have it.” 

Cleo is a queer dresser, isn’t she ? ” queried 
a blooming young bride in very correct tailor- 
made ” costume. ‘‘ I don’t see why she cannot 
dress like the rest of us. Those loose ‘ Mother 
Hubbard ’ rigs are all well enough on the stage ; 
we expect such costumes from actresses. And 
just look at her hair, curled and frousled until 
it looks like a snarl of embroidery silk; and 
she never changes it ; summer or winter, it is al- 
ways the same. Fashions come and fashions 
go, but her head is unchanged.” 

That’s the very thing I admire most in 
her,” answered Agnes. “ She has not only 
good taste, but character. She knows just 
what suits her own style, and she has sense and 
independence enough to wear it. You see she 
is quite short.” 


40 The Egyptian Ring. 

should say so, indeed! ’’ said Vivian (who 
was unusually tall). ‘‘ Horrid little frump! — 
she isn’t an inch over five feet one or two ; and 
she’s as broad as she is long. I cannot see 
what there is to admire in her.” 

Agnes gave Vivian a keen look, but said 
nothing to her in reply. However, she again 
broke forth in defence of her favorite. 

I think her figure lovely,” she said ; “ such 
a neck ! — such arms, delightfully plump ! — and 
she is artist enough to know that those long, 
flowing lines are the thing for her to wear. As 
for ‘ Mother Hubbards,’ as you call them, I 
wish I could see every one of you in a ‘ Mother 
Hubbard ’ this minute, instead of those nasty, 
vulgar, tight and uncomfortable tailor-made 
gowns. Why I most of you have to use a but- 
ton-hook to bring your bodices together; you 
bulge out here and nip in there, and show your 
figure, or what you call your figure (which is 
all false) in the most immodest way, and as the 
prayer-book says, ‘ there is no good in you.’ ” 
Oh, come now, Agnes,” spoke up Vivian. 

Please do not give us a lecture , upon artistic 
dressing, a la Cleo Patrick.” 

Let her alone,” said the bride, Mrs. Alfred 


41 


The Egyptian Ring. 

Anderson. Agnes has convictions. She is 
convinced that we are all idiots. There is one 
god, or rather goddess, beside Allah, and that 
is Cleo Patrick ; and ‘ Mother Hubbards ' are 
her heavenly robes.” 

You may fire your sarcasm at me all you 
wish to,” said Agnes, “ what do I care ? And 
you may ridicule ‘ Mother Hubbard ’ gowns all 
you please, but you none of you appreciate the 
possibilities of that much maligned garment. 
How inconsistent you are! You rave over 
Greek and Eastern draperies and turn your 
backs in scorn upon their nearest relative. 
Certainly, that horrid name is against it, and 
I admit I have seen some agonizing specimens 
hanging out at the shops. ‘ Your choice for 
forty-nine cents,’ you know; but such a dress 
as Cleo wore to the Thayers’ the other 
night is positively Greek in its classicism. It is 
a robe fit for the gods. As for Cleo’s form, 
you girls have an idea that no woman is fit 
to wear clothes but one tall enough for an elec- 
tric light pole. I hate them! Look at me. 
I’m called stylish, and willowy, and all that. 
I’m nothing but a horrid fraud, with padded 
arms, padded hips, and my bones almost rat- 


42 


The Egyptian Ring. 

tling. And Fve got hollows in my scrawny 
neck. Deep enough for coin purses. Oh, 
Lord ! what would I not give for Cleo Patrick’s 
form ! ” 

Well, you’re frank enough about it, any- 
way, my dear. There’s no danger of our mis- 
taking you for the Venus de Medici after this.” 

“ Frank! Of course I am. Because I know 
you are all just like me, my dears. We are a 
set of animated clothes-poles. But, bless me, 
my cigarette is out.” And she proceeded to 
relight it. 

“ You make me think of the wonderful wife 
in Marie Corelli’s story. She offered her 
cigarette case to her newly-wedded lord al- 
most before they had started on their wedding 
journey. I believe you would be audacious 
enough to do that same thing, Agnes I ” 

‘‘And why not, pray?” asked Agnes. “I 
suppose you believe with the rest of the world, 
that all the doubtful habits should be monopo- 
lized by man. A man may go to the bottomless 
pit of vileness, but when he. has ‘ sowed his 
wild oats ’ and deigns to select a victim for 
matrimonial honors, she must be all that is 
pure, innocent, and virginal ; while he has been 


The Egyptian Ring. 


43 


amusing himself degrading other men’s wives 
and daughters, she has lived the life of a vestal. 
Because, forsooth, he could put up with noth- 
ing less. I don’t go around shouting for 
woman’s rights ; you know that. But I do be- 
lieve that in the sight of God, what is right in 
a man is right in a woman. Men and women 
are equal in the sight of our Maker. No, thank 
you, I don’t want a husband. When I put on 
my hat, I want it to cover my whole family.” 

Nonsense, Agnes, how you do run on. We 
shall probably hear of your engagement before 
Easter.” 

I shall never marry,” said Agnes, solemnly. 

After Agnes’s answer a chill seemed to settle 
upon the party, and one by one they took their 
departure, until finally the beautiful and envied 
Vivian found herself entirely alone. Restlessly 
she paced the floor, inwardly raging, and in 
every way miserable. 

“ He loves her ! ” she cried. “ Oh ! that I 
could doubt it, but it is too true. I have seen 
his love for her grow like a beautiful flower; 
and I ! — I love him so, and he hardly deigns to 
notice my presence. What is all this hateful 
luxury and wealth to me, since he will not share 


44 


The Egyptian Ring. 


it with me ? Oh, for a charm to lure him to my 
side ! That ring ! she almost shouted ; “ that 
will bring him to me. That mysterious ring! 
I must, I will have it.’' 

“Did Mademoiselle ring?” And a coquet- 
tish head was thrust inside the door. 

“No! er — yes; I did,” hesitatingly answered 
her mistress. “ Ah ! Fanchette, how well you 
are looking to-day I ” 

The little French maid smiled in the most 
delighted manner. 

“And are you to attend the French ball? 
Yes, of course, you are.” 

“ Since Mademoiselle is so kind,” answered 
Fanchette. “ I have been anxious lest my cos- 
tume might not compare ” 

“Oh, we can arrange that,” said her mistress. 
“ I think I must give you my blue silk, with 
the chiffon, and those pretty blue hose with the 
silver clocks. That will make you quite charm- 
ing.” 

“ Mademoiselle is too kind ! ” cried the de- 
lighted Fanchette. 

“ No, indeed, Fanchette. You have been a 
most obliging creature to me, and I always re- 


The Egyptian Ring. 45 

member a kindness, my dear girl. I never 
forget a debt,” she added impressively. 

‘‘ By the way, Fanchette, you were asking me 
if you might go over and spend a night with 
Mrs. Patrick’s maid, Elise. I think I can spare 
you to-night. I suppose you and she are fath- 
oms deep in your ball costumes? Fanchette, 
did you ever notice that queer ring with a tur- 
quoise centre that Mrs. Patrick wears ? ” 

Indeed I have. Mademoiselle. One could 
not help to see it, it is so very odd; and she 
seems to prize it so. She seldom wears but that 
one, although one day, while going through her 
room with Elise, I noticed the ring stand was 
full of lovely rings.. I spoke of it to Elise, and 
she said, ‘ Madame never took that ring off 
from her hand excepting when she went to 
bed.’ ” 

Vivian listened eagerly to every word. 

‘‘ If only one could have that ring,” she mus- 
ingly said, as if to herself. ‘‘ My heart is set 
upon possessing that ring, — or,” she corrected 
herself, one like it. I would pay a glorious 
price for such a ring.” 

Fanchette started and glanced inquiringly at 
her mistress. 


4^ The Egyptian Ring. 

Indeed I would,” she said in answer to the 
look. A glorious price ! And, you know, I 
always pay my debts,” she added, slowly and 
impressively. “ That is all, dear. You can 
go.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 


47 


CHAPTER V. 

“A little of that large discourse I know, which Buddha 
spoke.” 

— “ The Light of Asia.” 

“ These words the Master spake of duties due 
To Father, Mother, Children, fellows, friends.” 

— “ The Light of Asia.” 

The same bright clay in January which wit- 
nessed the meeting of the '' smart ” young 
ladies in Vivian Sinclair’s boudoir, another and 
a different sort of meeting took place in one of 
the most exclusive mansions on Beacon Street. 

The chatelaine of this modern palace was 
known familiarly by her intimate friends as 
Mrs. ^^Ted,” otherwise, Mrs. Theodore Palmer. 

On the afternoon in question, a large party 
of thinking men and women met in Mrs. 

Ted’s ” magnificent drawing-room. This 
meeting, like nearly everything presented by 
that lady, was to be unique. For Mrs. “ Ted ” 
was not only very wealthy, but intellectual, 
daring and, above all, original, and last but 


48 


The Egyptian Ring. 


not least, generous and kind in heart. Thor- 
oughly misunderstood and heartily abused, she 
went her way serenely, happy in the knowledge 
that she was much better than her envious ac- 
cusers. 

On this occasion, Mrs. ‘‘ Ted ” was to in- 
troduce the wonderful Theosophist priest, Mo- 
hundra Ardartha, to a select circle of Boston 
elite. 

The weird philosopher created a most pro- 
found impression as he strode into the room. 
He was more than six feet in height, rather 
spare of flesh, with large, mild, expressive eyes 
and a face of most extraordinary beauty. His 
attire attracted no little attention, as he wore 
the picturesque dress of an Eastern land. It 
was composed of shades of dull Indian red and 
a soft, beautiful brown, with a mantle of mus- 
tard yellow. Upon his head he wore a turban 
of thin ivory-white material, disposed in grace- 
ful folds. 

He began his discourse, slowly and impress- 
ively, in a low, musical voice, used most perfect 
English, and held his intelligent audience spell- 
bound for more than an hour. 

Among the many guests assembled were 


49 


The Egyptian Ring. 

Mark Anthony and Cleo Patrick; the former 
strangely moved by the words of the Buddhist 
priest. When Mohundra touched upon the re- 
incarnation of the soul, which was a favorite 
topic with Mark, he looked earnestly at Cleo as 
if to read her very thoughts. 

The lecture ended. The audience slowly 
wended their way, in groups of twos and threes, 
toward the door. 

Suddenly the deep tones of the priest were 
heard above the murmur of the departing 
throng. 

There is one here,’’ he said, to whom I 
bear a message. Will the lady who wears the 
Egyptian ring be pleased to wait a little after 
the others, that I may speak with her ? ” 

Cleo turned pale, but said nothing. Mark 
hurriedly made his way to her side. 

Do not fear,” he said, in low tones. Mo- 
hundra is well known to me, a noble, kindly 
soul, who desires only that which is highest 
and best in life. I met him in the East, two 
years ago, and learned to respect and admire 
him.” 

‘‘ Thank you ! ” said Cleo, quietly. '' I will 
M^ait.” 

4 


so 


The Egyptian Ring. 


She seated herself calmly and waited until 
all were gone. Mrs. Ted/’ seeing that her 
illustrious guest desired to speak alone with 
Cleo, invented a charmingly original fib about 
being needed somewhere else at that particular 
moment, and excused herself ‘‘ just for a 
minute.” 

At length Cleo and the priest were alone. 
He advanced deferentially, and, bowing grace- 
fully, said : ‘‘ Dear lady, you have heard my 

words this afternoon concerning re-incarnation. 
It is my belief, my creed. I know it is surely 
accomplished. Yes ! even in yourself. For, ages 
ago, you were before on earth, in another land, 
rich in learning, wealth and history. Alas ! to- 
day it is a land of colossal ruins. The Sphynx, 
the Pyramids, Karnah, Philse, Memphis ; some- 
thing still remains to show a wondering world 
how great was Egypt. When these grand 
monuments were at their best, then, dear lady, 
you were the one supreme; beautiful, powerful, 
but, pardon me, unscrupulous. You paid the 
tribute which, sooner or later, we all must pay. 
You died, and by your own fair hand. But in 
that pitiful death was redemption and purifica- 
tion, and in another and later age you were re- 


SI 


. Egyptian Ring. 

born. Again you lived and loved and died. 
During that life a famous artist saw and loved 
you and made a masterpiece of you as Cleopa- 
tra, little knowing it was really she he painted. 
Again you paid nature’s price. Ages went by, 
and now, to-day, I behold you here, a glorious 
woman, as beautiful as of yore, but purified, 
noble. Show me the ring,” he said abruptly. 

Cleo handed him the ring. He examined it 
carefully. Yes,” he said. This is the ring 
of Cleopatra. And you,” he continued, im- 
pressively, were, and are, Cleopatra, Queen 
of Egypt, in other days.” 

‘‘ No, no ! ” shuddered Cleo. I cannot bear 
it ; it is too dreadful.” 

He took no notice of her outcry, but con- 
tinued : '' Him saw I too. Antony, the Ro- 
man general ! He, too, has passed through the 
fire and is regenerate. Now mark me well! 
That ring was hers, your other self. Fate has 
once again thrown it into your hands. For 
you it bears a potent charm, but for none other. 
Treasure it, guard it, for it brings you happi- 
ness and love. This is the message of the Ma- 
hatmas, and also this : Beware the dark-browed. 


52 The Egyptian Ring. 

slender serpent who pretends to be your 
friend ! ” 

Cleo shudderingly covered her face with her 
hands. When she dropped them she found 
herself , — alone I ^ 


The Egyptian Ring. 


S3 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ Thou smooth-lipped serpent, surely high inspired, 

Thou beauteous wreath, with melancholy eyes. 

Possess whatever bliss thou canst devise.” 

— Keats, “ Lamia.” 

Fanchette returned the next morning from 
Mrs. Patrick’s in good season, but seeming a 
trifle nervous and agitated. She greeted her 
mistress respectfully and delivered several kind 
messages from Cleo; after which she ascended 
to her own room to exchange her street gown 
for her regular house attire. 

Vivian had been reading by a sunny window 
as she entered, but as she left the room, dropped 
her book, and lifting the lace draperies, looked 
out upon the wintry landscape. It was wintry, 
but very beautiful. The sun was shining 
brightly, adding brilliant lights to the snow- 
covered roofs and trees. She saw in the dis- 
tance the gilded dome of the State House, like 
a great topaz, the fairest jewel in Boston’s 


crown. 


54 


The Egyptian Ring. 


“ Topaz and sapphire ! ” she exclaimed, as 
she saw the dome against the blue background 
of sky. It is too lovely.” 

She crossed the room, and seating herself 
at the piano, began to sing Lola’s song from 
Cavalleria Rusticana.” 

Pshaw ! ” she exclaimed, I cannot sing. I 
am not in the mood. I am dying with curiosity. 
Did she take it? Has she got it? Why did 
she not tell me? I dare not ask her. I must 
not commit myself, but await developments.” 

She left the drawing-room and slowly 
wended her way up the stairs leading to her 
own private apartments. She entered her 
chamber, advanced to a large mirror above the 
bureau and glanced in. 

“ Heavens ! ” she cried, “ what a fright I am ! 
I look like one who has seen a spirit. It is this 
blue ribbon at my neck. I am always hideous 
in blue. I am too dark for it. I will exchange 
it for the cream-white which becomes me.” 

Suiting the action to the word, she hastily 
pulled open the upper drawer of the bureau, 
and there, quietly reposing among her costly 
laces, she beheld Cleo Patrick’s Egyptian ring. 
She drew a long breath of relief. 


The Egyptian Ring. 


55 


That girl ! ” she said. How clever ! ’’ 

She took the ring from its dainty bed, and 
seating herself, she examined it carefully and 
thoroughly. 

“ It is lovely,” she said, and wonderfully 
odd; and now that I have it safely in my own 
hands, what shall I do with it? I must wear 
it upon my person in order to receive any bene- 
fit from its charm. Charm ! What nonsense ! 
And yet I cannot help but feel there is a mystery 
about it. Then, again, no one must ever see it. 
Cleo will doubtless raise a great commotion 
when she discovers her loss. Will she suspect 
Fanchette? No, I feel sure she will not, as the 
girl has passed many nights at her house with 
Elise, and has always been very trustworthy. 
Let me think. Ah ! I have it. Yes, that will 
do nicely; and I shall have it always upon my 
person.” 

She crossed the room, and opening a closet 
door, she reached up to a high shelf and took 
therefrom a square box, which, as she opened it, 
disclosed a quantity of exquisite silk pieces, 
odds and ends left from her various toilets. 
She finally selected a small piece of rose-colored 
silk, of a firm, rich texture. Again crossing the 


56 The Egyptian Ring. 

room, she paused before a table, upon which 
rested a very dainty and well-appointed lady’s 
work-basket. She took from it her thimble, a 
spool of rose-colored silk, and scissors; and 
opening a needle-book, selected a needle. This 
she threaded with the sewing silk. She next 
measured the ring and cut a tiny bag of the 
dress silk to fit it. Then in a business-like 
manner, she sewed up the seams to the bag very 
securely. She next placed the ring within the 
bag and sewed it in carefully. 

Now,” she thought, I want a cord.” 

She paused a moment, then went again to the 
closet and brought forth an immense box con- 
taining a superb ball costume. “ I will take 
one of the lacing cords to my waist,” she said to 
herself. I can easily replace it.” And she 
proceeded to cut the rose-tinted cord from the 
corsage. Then reseating herself, she sewed the 
cord firmly to each corner of the top of the 
bag, so as to make a silken chain with the bag 
as a pendant. She quickly unbuttoned her 
gown, and, slipping the cord over her head, 
placed the whole within her dress and rebut- 
toned it. 

Then she sat for several minutes absorbed in 


57 


The Egyptian Ring. 

silent thought. At length she seemed to have 
arrived at some conclusion, for she smiled, and 
reaching out her hand, touched an electric but- 
ton. Fanchette appeared in answer to the sum- 
mons. Not a word or look of Vivian^s be- 
trayed that anything unusual had taken place. 
Fanchette was pale and appeared constrained 
and nervous. 

Fanchette,” said Vivian, pleasantly, my 
dear girl, I have just been thinking of you.” 

“ Mademoiselle is too kind,” murmured Fan- 
chette. 

No, indeed ! Fanchette, you have been very 
faithful to me and my interests ; and I have de- 
termined to reward your devotion. You re- 
member telling me not long since how homesick 
you were for France ? Dear old France ! And 
how you longed to see your parents once again ? 
You shall see them, Fanchette. I will make it 
possible for you. What would you say now to 
a ticket for France upon a first-class steamer, 
and a thousand dollars in money to start you 
in a nice little business when you arrive? A 
thousand dollars would be quite a little fortune 
in France, Fanchette.” 

‘‘She wishes to be rid of me forever,” 


58 


The Egyptian Ring. 

thought the girl. She is afraid I might be- 
tray her, but I shall be only too glad to go. I 
hate myself.’' 

Recovering herself, however, she quickly re- 
plied : 

Mademoiselle is an angel of goodness and 
generosity. I shall never cease to be grateful.” 

Well, then,” responded Vivian brightly, 
we’ll consider that settled. How soon would 
you care to go ? ” 

The sooner the better,” answered Fan- 
chette. 

Very well, then. This is Tuesday. Would 
you like to sail in the steamer which leaves on 
Saturday next? Could you be ready? If so, 
your ticket shall be purchased for you. I dis- 
like much to part with you, Fanchette; but in 
this case I must not consider my own feelings. 
You have been a willing, devoted girl to me, 
and deserve to be rewarded.” 

So it was all arranged as Vivian had planned, 
and the following Saturday, Fanchette found 
herself a passenger upon an outward-bound 
steamer sailing away to her native land. But 
it was not the same light-hearted Fanchette 
who, five years before, had come to America as 


The Egyptian Ring. 


59 


maid to Vivian Sinclair, who had come across 
her in France, and being attracted by her pretty 
face and pert ways, had engaged her to wait 
upon her. Notwithstanding the fact that she 
returned to France a far richer woman than 
she left it, her heart was heavy. Naturally 
neither dishonest nor deceitful, only the hope of 
a very large reward and a desire to please a quite 
indulgent mistress had impelled her to commit 
such a sin against Cleo Patrick, whom she sin- 
cerely liked and respected. She bitterly re- 
gretted her act. But it was too late to retract. 
She must shield not only herself but her late 
mistress from the consequences sure to follow, 
were the truth ever known. 


6o 


The Egyptian Ring. 


CHAPTER VII. 

“ But the trail of the serpent is over them all.” 

— Thomas Moore, “ Paradise and the Peri.” 

Fanchette had been gone from the Pat- 
ricks’ several hours before Cleo discovered the 
loss of her ring. 

Thinking it might have been swept off her 
dressing-case by a careless hand, she began to 
look for it in a leisurely manner. Not finding 
it as easily as she had at first expected to, she 
called her two children, and questioned them. 
Neither had seen the ring off from her hand. 
Then she summoned Elise, who, of course, 
knew nothing of it, but together they searched 
everywhere. The bureau drawers were ran- 
sacked and each article taken out, shaken and 
replaced again within the drawer. Cleo’s heart 
sank. At last Elise spoke. 

‘‘ Madame,” she said, ‘‘ you know Fanchette 
was here with me last night. Do you 
think ” and she hesitated. 


The Egyptian Ring. 6i 

Think what, Elise? That Fanchette has 
taken my ring? No, I do not. The poor girl 
has been coming here for the last five years and 
has always been honest and faithful. I will not 
wrong her by a suspicion.’’ 

After searching diligently for a couple of 
hours she at last realized that the fateful ring 
was really gone. She was almost prostrated. 
The mysterious happenings of the last three 
months had given the ring a superstitious value. 
Not for its beauty and oddity did she prize it 
wholly now. It seemed to her to hold her fate 
within its golden circle. Its loss made her 
gloomy and depressed. So restless was she, 
that day, that shortly after lunch she deter- 
mined to go out into the open air to take a 
walk somewhere to relieve her agitated mind. 

Instinctively, her steps took the direction of 
Vivian Sinclair’s home; not that she suspected 
Fanchette, for her faith in the girl’s honesty 
was unshaken. 

Vivian received her cordially and effusively. 

“ For goodness’ sake, Cleo, what has hap- 
pened ? ” she asked. Are you ill ? You look 
as though you had encountered a ghost from 
the subway or the Granery Burying Ground.” 


62 


The Egyptian Ring. 


Cleo faltered; she tried to speak, and the 
tears came into her eyes. 

‘‘ You will think me very childish and fool- 
ish,” she said, “ but I have lost my old Egyp- 
tian ring, and I am almost heart-broken over 
it.” 

‘‘ Lost it ! ” echoed Vivian, in well-feigned 
surprise. How ? Where ? ” 

“ I only wish I knew,” sighed Cleo. All I 
know is that it has mysteriously disappeared. 
It was last night, you know; Fanchette was at 
the house, but, of course,” she added hastily, 

I do not suspect her, poor girl 

I should say not, indeed ! ” said Vivian, 
quickly. “ Fanchette is the very soul of hon- 
esty. It would break her heart to know she 
was suspected of such a deed. My dear Cleo, 
I sympathize with you deeply in your trouble. 
Possibly you might have caught the ring among 
your laces or the trimmings of your dress, and 
then dropped it in some place unawares. If 
'sa, you may come across it again. You don’t 
'suppose, do you, that rats or mice ever carry 
laway such little things? ” 

( No, I think not, although I am unfamiliar 
with their habits.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 63 

And so the conversation drifted on. Cleo 
tried to assume a cheerful manner while at her 
friend’s, but the effort was too trying to her 
strained nerves and after a short time she took 
her leave. 

Thank Heaven ! ” cried Vivian, as she 
watched Cleo’s departing figure. That is 
over.” 

Cleo returned directly to her home. Her 
heart was too sad. She could not enjoy the 
beautiful wintry landscape which lay all around 
her. Boston Common, that pride of every true 
Bostonian, appeared like a veritable fairy-land ; 
the tall trees covered with light snow and ice 
seemed like gigantic patterns of delicate lace- 
work. She did not notice the smiling sun ; the 
sky almost too blue for a winter sky. 

She entered her home wearily, and once 
again ascended to her apartments. 

I am almost ill,” she thought; I will put 
on a loose gown and try and compose myself. 
It cannot be helped.” 

Half an hour afterwards, Mark Anthony was 
ushered into the library. Cleo, when informed 
of his presence, went down to receive him. She 
entered the room, looking like a vision of des- 


The Egyptian Ring. 


64 

pair, her loose robe, of some delicate ivory- 
white, woollen material, only adding to the 
effect, so simple and severe was it in design. 
Agnes Hastings would have called it a glorified 
Mother Hubbard.’^ 

He advanced towards the door when he 
heard Cleo’s footsteps, holding in one hand an 
immense bouquet of beautiful violets. Mark 
stopped in surprise as she entered the room. 

“ Why, my darling ! he exclaimed, what 
is the matter with you ? How ill you look ! ” 

Her lips quivered, but she made no answer. 
She tried at last to speak, but dropping her 
head into her hands, burst into an agony of 
sobs; her over-charged heart found relief in 
tears. 

Mark was dumfounded and miserable, but 
he saw that in her present condition those tears 
were a blessing to her. They seemed to calm 
her nerves, and as Mark advanced and took her 
hands in his, she raised her head, her face all 
suffused with tears, and smiled. 

I feel better now, Mark dear, and I want 
to tell you all about it. But really, I am afraid 
you will think me awfully foolish to make so 
much of what you may consider a trifle.’’ 


The Egyptian Ring. 65 

Then in a simple, straightforward manner 
she proceeded to make it all clear to him. 

Mark listened attentively, his brow clouded. 
He, unlike Cleo, instantly suspected Fanchette, 
the maid, of taking the ring, although he could 
not understand her motive. Fanchette had 
many pretty rings and trinkets of her own, for 
she had a generous mistress and excellent 
wages. And why she should run such a risk 
of detection, for a ring which she probably did 
not appreciate, he could not fathom. His keen 
mind detected something wrong, and he de- 
termined to unravel the mystery. He would 
say nothing of his suspicions to poor, sorrowing 
Cleo, but silently watch and wait and unravel, 
if he could, the mysterious disappearance of the 
ring. 

To Cleo he spoke lightly of her loss, trying in 
every way to lighten her grief. But his own 
heart was troubled; he thought of the words 
which Mohundra Ardartha had said to Cleo and 
which she had repeated to himself : Beware 
the dark-browed, slender serpent who pretends 
to be your friend.” 

She is the one,” thought Mark. It is 
Vivian Sinclair. I will find out the truth.” 

5 


66 


The Egyptian Ring. 


After this Mark seemed to delight more and 
more in society. He was ubiquitous, here, 
there, and everywhere, talking, listening, and 
watching. He called now frequently upon 
Vivian Sinclair, much to that lady^s delight and 
Cleo’s amazement, as hitherto he had never 
seemed to admire the haughty belle. Vivian's 
manner to Cleo seemed to undergo a change. 
She now assumed an air of condescending su- 
periority, and never failed to inform Cleo of all 
his visits. 

Cleo was wounded, and in her heart wondered. 
Had she, after all, been mistaken in Mark’s 
character? Was he, like the rest of the men 
she knew, made only of common clay? She 
had bdieved him to be superior; a retiring, 
studious gentleman. But he seemed to be fast 
developing into a society leader. 

His manner to Cleo continued unchanged. 
His love and devotion seemed unbounded. 
Nevertheless she experienced feelings of disap- 
pointment and regret. 


The Egyptian Ring. 


67 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ What a goodly outside falsehood hath.” 

— Shakespeare. 

“ To be once in doubt is once to be resolved.” 

— Shakespeare. 

When Anthony heard of the departure of 
Fanchette, Vivian’s maid, for France, he became 
doubly suspicious of the guilt of the mistress, 
and he resolved to be more wailful than ever. 

Shortly after he received this valuable bit of 
information, he called at the Sinclair residence. 
He had not been there many minutes when the 
new maid appeared and handed a note to Vi- 
vian. 

Mark thanked his good genius for this op- 
portunity which he had been long wishing for. 

“ Isn’t that a new maid you have ? ” said he, 
carelessly, as she left the room. 

Yes, she is a new one, and rather awk- 
ward,” replied Vivian. 

“ Nice little girl, that other one; very pretty 


68 


The Egyptian Ring. 


and dainty,” said Mark, in a desperate attempt 
to continue this topic of conversation. 

So she was,” answered Vivian. ‘‘ I picked 
her up in France, myself, at Sevres. Her 
father was a workman in the porcelain factory 
there. They were very respectable people, and 
quite well-to-do ; it was some time before they 
could be brought to part with Fanchette, but 
the girl was crazy to come with me to America, 
and we finally won the day. Lately, however, 
she has pined for home, her parents, and 
France, so I reluctantly allowed her to return. 
Quite a sacrifice, I assure you, as I doubt if I 
ever find so satisfactory a maid again.” 

Mark could hardly suppress his delight at 
this gratuitous bit of information, which was 
all he desired. He remained a reasonable time 
and then politely took his departure. As he re- 
gained the street he drew a long breath of re- 
lief. 

‘'Now I begin to see my way clear,” he 
thought. “But I must not tellCleo yet. What a 
shame to be obliged to deceive her, but it is ab- 
solutely necessary to the success of my plans. 
Cleo has such a beautiful, simple, and transpar- 
ent nature, she could never conceal her feelings 


The Egyptian Ring. 


69 


and thoughts. Now let me see/’ he mused, I 
must concoct a plausible story, so I can get 
away from America without exciting Vivian’s 
suspicions. I have it ! ” he suddenly exclaimed. 

I will pretend to go out West to investigate 
the serpent mounds or the Grand Canon; that 
will be in keeping with my character.” 

That evening he called upon Cleo, and, after 
a little chat upon every-day topics, broached the 
subject of his departure from Boston for a 
month or two. 

I can’t say for how long, dear ; but it will 
not be many weeks. I must investigate those 
serpent mounds. They will work into my new 
book finely. Are you aware tliat spring is al- 
most here? I will leave orders to have my 
yacht, the Cleopatra, overhauled while I am 
away, and this summer we will make up a party 
of congenial friends, and do our best to get 
Mrs. ‘ Ted ’ to matronize us, and we will take 
a delightful cruise.” 

“ Oh ! how lovely that would be,” said Cleo, 
and Mrs. ' Ted ’ is always so full of resources, 
and so brilliant. But I shall miss you dread- 
fully,” she said, with a sorrowful face. 

Try and not mind it, dear,” he said. If 


70 


The Egyptian Ring, 

will soon be over. See what I have brought 
you to take my place while I am gone. I do 
not wish to be absolutely forgotten/’ he said, 
quizzically, handing her a little package as he 
spoke. 

She opened the paper which enwrapped it. 
A dainty bag of old rose brocade was disclosed, 
which in turn held an ivory box; the counter- 
part of the one which had held her engagement 
ring, only considerably larger. This, too, had 
her monogram finely carved upon the top. She 
opened the box and there, reposing upon its 
white velvet bed, was an exquisite ivory minia- 
ture of Mark, himself. It was set within a 
golden frame, inlaid with pearls, and attached 
to the ring was a long golden chain to wear it 
on around her neck. 

Cleo uttered an exclamation of delight. 

‘‘ Miss Kusner painted that,” said Mark. 

And, Cleo, I want you to have one painted 
for me while I am gone — one of yourself.” 

Cleo readily promised, and then slipped the 
golden chain over her head. 

‘‘ Oh, Mark ! ” she said, “ how kind you are 
to me.” 

Mark returned home, and immediately be- 


The Egyptian Ring. 71 

gan to make preparations for his trip to France ; 
for that was his destination, instead of the 
West. He had fully determined to hunt up 
Fanchette; and some way or other to get at the 
truth. His friends accepted the story of the 
Western trip in good faith. 

“ What a fellow Mark is ! said Paul Derby. 

I have been expecting this for some time. I 
never knew Mark to remain in one place so long 
before. I thought he could not keep quiet 
much longer. How he does love those old, 
musty studies of his ! ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said another, everything old, odd, 
or mysterious appeals to Mark.” 

So many of his friends accompanied him to 
the station and wished him success and a pleas- 
ant trip as the train drew away. For he was a 
great favorite, despite his oddity. 

When Mark arrived at the Metropolis he 
wrote a line to Cleo, telling her of his safe ar- 
rival in New York, where he wished to transact 
some business, previous to his departure for the 
West. In his letter he told Cleo not to be 
worried or surprised if she did not hear from 
him again, as he hardly knew where his wan- 


72 The Egyptian Ring. 

derings might take him, perhaps away from 
civilization. 

Mark made a quick and pleasant trip from 
New York to Southampton, and without any 
unnecessary delay crossed the Channel and ar- 
rived safely upon French soil. 

He made his way directly to the little town of 
Sevres, and after a lunch went early to bed, 
pretty well worn out by his quick travelling. 
He awoke the next morning refreshed by a 
sound night’s sleep. 

After breakfast he made a few cautious in- 
quiries, but did not obtain the information he 
desired. He put on his hat and coat and 
started out, traversing all of the principal high- 
ways in search of Fanchette. Fortunately, he 
thought, he knew her surname; it was Flamel. 

That first day he was unsuccessful, but he 
was not discouraged. He again started forth 
the next day, determined to be more vigilant 
than ever. As he wandered through the busy 
portion of the town he came suddenly upon 
a modest little milliner’s shop. He stopped in 
surprise before the Small gilded sign displayed 
over the door. “ Mile. Fanchette,” he read. 
His heart beat wildly. Could it be ? He would 


The Egyptian Ring. 73 

investigate, and turning to the glass panels of 
the door, he peered in. 

Yes, there she stood, Fanchette herself, smil- 
ing and talking volubly with a customer. He 
waited until the customer departed, and then 
quickly entered the little shop. 

Hearing footsteps, Fanchette turned and 
found herself face to face with Mark Anthony. 
She knew him at once and her face turned 
deadly pale, her eyes glaring at him in surprise 
and dread. 

‘‘ You! Monsieur,’’ she faltered. '' You 
here! ” 

‘‘Yes, Fanchette, it is I; and furthermore, I 
came all the way to France expressly to see 
you” 

“To see me” echoed Fanchette. “ Mon- 
sieur, I do not understand.” 

“ Well, then,” said Mark, “ I will endeavor 
to explain.” And he proceeded to tell his 
story: the loss of Cleo’s ring, of her sorrow 
and despair, and his own belief that Vivian 
Sinclair was responsible for its disappear- 
ance. 

“ I do not understand her motive,” he went 
on, “ Cleo is so gentle, good and kind to every 


74 


The Egyptian Ring.- 

one. She was always kind to you, was she not, 
Fanchette? ” 

‘Tndeed she was. Monsieur,’' answered Fan- 
chette. 

“ Then, my girl,” said Mark, reading guilt 
in her face, and making a bold move, “ how 
could you take that ring, that she prized so 
highly, away from her? To please your dis- 
honorable mistress, of course; for I know you 
did not desire the ring yourself. Come, Fan- 
chette, I will be lenient if you will tell me the 
truth. No one shall know of this but ourselves. 
If you refuse to tell me the truth here quietly, 
I shall be obliged to resort to other means, and 
you will be publicly disgraced. I read the 
truth in your face, Fanchette; you took the ring 
to gratify some whim of your mistress.” 

Fanchette burst into tears. For a time her 
sobs prevented her answering. At length she 
raised her head and said : 

“ Monsieur, I did take the ring, and, as you 
say, it was at Mile. Sinclair’s desire. I assure 
you, I have never known peace since. I had 
no ill-will or malice against Madame Patrick. 
On the contrary, I always admired and liked 
her. As for caring myself for the ring, I never 


The Egyptian Ring. 75 

gave it a thought. I have bitterly regretted 
taking it, it was such a detestable act.” 

She then proceeded to tell Mark everything 
connected with the affair, feeling much re- 
lieved at thus unburdening herself. 

“ Has Miss Sinclair still got the ring in her 
possession ? ” inquired Mark. 

You may be sure she has,” answered the 
girl. ‘‘ She will not part with it, having risked 
so much to gain it. But she never mentioned 
the ring to me again, after she found it in her 
bureau drawer where I had put it. One thing 
I noticed, however, that forever after the day 
she found the ring, she used always to wear 
around her neck a tiny pink silk cord, with 
a little silken bag attached to it, and I am con- 
vinced that Madame Patrick’s ring is in that 
little bag. Night or day it never left her neck. 
You know I always helped her to dress and so 
had a chance to know the truth.” 

Mark thanked the girl and spoke kindly and 
soothingly to her. 

I cannot blame you, Fanchette,” he said, 
although your taking the ring was a dastardly 
act, but I know you were lured on by brilliant 
promises and a desire to serve your mistress. 


The Egyptian Ring. 


76 

I am sure you have repented your deed. Let it 
be a lesson to you, and we will bury the secret 
between us.” 

So saying, Mark bid adieu to Fanchette and 
took his leave. 


The Egyptian Ring, 


77 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ Slander, whose edge is sharper than a sword ; 

Whose tongue outvenoms all the worms of the Nile.” 

— Shakespeare. 

It was early in March when Mark went 
abroad. Cleo missed his presence, which had 
grown so dear to her, and took little interest m 
society. To pass the time she spent her days in 
work and study. She read the best books, and 
daily passed several hours a day at her piano, 
practising Beethoven, Chopin, and many others 
of her favorite composers. She also finished 
several beautiful specimens of embroidery; for 
she was an adept at this charming and womanly 
occupation. 

She sat by a sunny window in her own little 
sitting-room one morning, busily engaged upon 
a bit of needlework. This room was as unlike 
the luxurious boudoir of Vivian Sinclair as 
were the characters of the two women. 

Cleo’s room was modest and dainty, like her 


78 


The Egyptian Ring. 

own personality. It was very light in tone, 
most of the furnishings being in ivory white, 
although there were several specimens of genu- 
ine old colonial heirlooms, which Cleo greatly 
prized. 

On one side of the room stood the quaint old 
“ swell front bureau, which had belonged to 
her great-grandmother, plain and severe in out- 
line. A piece of genuine old homespun linen 
covered the top, upon which stood a wonderful 
old antique jewel casket of the time of Marie 
Antoinette. It was made of dull red morocco, 
with tarnished old brass mountings, pulls, feet, 
etc. 

The mirror was another antique, a canopy 
top, with painting over the glass of a dejected 
lady, in Empire costume, weeping over a tomb 
with mortuary urn upon its pedestal. 

It is a strange fact that the women of the 
Empire period, judging from old pictures, 
samplers, etc., must have spent a large portion 
of their time weeping at tombs, in the most 
graceful attitudes imaginable, and with their 
draperies very properly and artistically ar- 
ranged. 

A superb bust in white marble stood upon a 


79 


Th Egyptian Ring. 

pedestal in one corner of the room. It was the 
Clytie of the British Museum, Cleo’s favorite 
work of art. 

There was little that was modern, excepting 
the well-filled bookcase, the dainty writing-desk 
in imitation of “ Vernis-Martin,” and a few 
good water-colors upon the walls, one of them 
a Venice, by F. Hopkinson Smith. 

Cleo sat quietly at her sewing when she heard 
a pattering of feet and the happy sound of chil- 
dren’s laughter. Presently there was a tap at 
the door, and before she could answer the sum- 
mons, it was thrown unceremoniously open, and 
her two children came trooping in. 

“ See, mamma,” cried the older of the two, 
a fine lad of twelve years — '' see what grandpa 
has given us and he opened his hand, disclos- 
ing a shining silver half-dollar. And Aggie 
has got one, too ; and grandpa said we were to 
take you out for a walk, mamma, and we are to 
go down to Huyler’s and buy you some candy. 
Aren’t we, Aggie? And grandpa says you 
must not stay moping in the house so much. It 
is not good for you. What is moping, 
mamma ? And will there be enough money to 
buy a little toy at Schawtz’s beside the candy ? 


8o The Egyptian Ring. 

Mamma, you don’t want a lot of candy, do 
you ? ” 

One question at a time, if you please. Mas- 
ter Paul,” said Cleo, laughing. ‘‘ Never mind 
about my moping. I am all right. Let me 
see ; yes, I think there will be ample money for 
bon-bons and one or two little toys beside. 
Small ones, you know. What will you have? 
Marbles ? I believe the marble season will soon 
be with us.” 

“ Will you please come, mamma ? ” cried 
both children at once. 

Mercy ! ” exclaimed Cleo. What a 
clamor! Yes, I suppose so. I’ll tell you what 
I’ll do. Let’s make a bargain. I will go with 
you and Aggie to Huyler’s and Schawtz’s if 
you will both accompany me to the new library, 
and I will show you all those wonderful pic- 
tures we were talking about the other day. 
Moses, and all the prophets, and the Holy 
Grail. Oh ! so beautiful ! ” 

The delighted children instantly consented, 
and ran away for their outer garments, while 
Cleo went to put on her walking costume. 

The little party was soon walking briskly 
across the common on their way to Huyler’s 


The Egyptian Ring. 8i 

and, after securing their bon-bons and a toy or 
two at Schawtz’s, they took a car for the new 
library. It was the children’s first visit to 
this superb building ; they entered the vestibule 
with hushed voices, and gazed almost with awe 
at the massive lions on the grand staircase. 
Cleo took much interest in describing the fres- 
coes to her children. 

They were all busily engaged looking and 
admiring, when they were startled by a voice 
near them : 

Good morning, Cleo ! How d’ do, 
babies ? ” 

Turning, they beheld Vivian Sinclair. 

Are you looking at the pictures, children? 
Well, run along and see that beautiful lady 
over there and that dreadful snake,” pointing to 
Sargent’s “ Astarte,” while mamma and I 
have a little chat.” 

The children obediently turned and walked 
away. 

It is a great treat to see a friend these days, 
Cleo,” said Vivian. Everybody seems to 
have deserted society. Agnes Hastings has 
been ill for a month. You never show yourself 
nowadays, and Mark Anthony has gone off, no 

6 


82 


The Egyptian Ring. 


one knows where, mound-hunting, and I do 
miss him so. He was at our house so much,’’ 
she said, eying Cleo narrowly, “ and he was al- 
ways so charming and entertaining. When a 
man is so very fascinating, you know, we poor 
women overlook his little weaknesses, don’t 
we ? ” 

“ I was not aware that Mr. Anthony had any 
little weaknesses worth mentioning,” said Cleo. 

I always supposed him to be different from 
most other men.” 

Dear ! dear ! ” laughed Vivian, what an 
innocent you are ! Have you never heard about 
that affair he had in Egypt ? She was a 
Fellah woman, or something, I believe.” 

Cleo started visibly. 

‘‘ No,” said Cleo, coldl}^, “ I never did.” 

“Of course he could not marry her, but I 
believe he provided liberally for her and the 
child. Why! what’s the matter, Cleo?” she 
exclaimed, as Cleo swayed and nearly fed. 

“ Nothing, I assure you,” replied Cleo, 
feebly. “ I am a trifle tired. I have taken 
quite a long walk this morning for me. You 
know I walk very little, and it overcomes me. 
I must take a car and return home. You will 


The Egyptian Ring. 


83 


excuse me, Vivian, this morning. Come, chil- 
dren, we will come another time to see the pic- 
tures.” She bowed to Vivian, turned, and 
walked away with her children. 

**1 fancy I have done the business this time,” 
thought Vivian. “ That’s the worst lie I ever 
told ; but ‘ all is fair in love and war.’ I do 
not believe Mark and Cleo are engaged, and she 
is such a purist, that story will crush out all her 
affection for Mark. I’m safe, too. She is too 
proud to ever speak of it, and he will never 
find it out.” 

Mamma,” said Paul, as they walked away, 
wasn’t it too bad that lady came and spoilt 
our fun ? I never did like her one bit, anyway. 
She always makes me nervous every time I 
see her.” 

Hush, dear ! ” answered Cleo. Miss Sin- 
clair did not mean to spoil your pleasure, I am 
sure. She only happened to come along while 
we were there.” 

Cleo hardly knew how she reached her home 
that day. Her head ached badly ; her feet were 
like lead. She could hardly drag herself along, 
and she did not wish to take a car lest she 
might meet friends she felt she could not talk 


84 


The Egyptian Ring. 


to. She was dazed and miserable. That vile 
story concerning Mark was forever in her mind. 

“ I cannot believe it,” she thought. “ It is 
not like him. It may be false. I hope so. I 
will try and give him the benefit of the doubt 
anyway.” 

She kindly sent the children away to enjoy 
their toys and bon-bons, and putting on a tea- 
gown in place of her walking costume, she lay 
down upon her bed and wept tears of misery. 

Thus a week passed, until one day dear old 
Grandpa Patrick, who loved Cleo as his own 
child, said to her: 

Cleo, my dear girl, I do not like the way 
you are looking. You eat nothing, and are as 
pale as a ghost. You need a change, my dear, 
and I want you to go with the Pinkneys to Eu- 
rope: I mean Egypt. They are only going 
upon a short trip ; just to see the Pyramids and 
the Sphynx, and to get a whiff of ocean air. 
They are very anxious to have you go with 
them, and I have half promised for you. You 
^will go to oblige your old father. I want to see 
the roses blooming in your cheeks again. 
Take a little time, dear, and think it over, they 
do not go for a week.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 


85 


At first Cleo would not hear of the journey, 
but gradually she listened to the arguments of 
her friends, and at last decided to go, as the 
trip was not to be a long one. 


86 


The Egyptian Ring. 


CHAPTER X. 

, “ Alas ! — how light a cause may move 

Dissension between hearts that love.” 

— “ The Light of the Harem.” 

One blustering day late in March, Mark 
Anthony found himself once again in his native 
city, and, after a bath, change of apparel, and 
one of “Aunty” Hoyt’s best lunches, he started 
for t!he residence of the Patricks. The door 
was opened by Elise in answer to his ring. 

He greeted the girl kindly, and then inquired 
for Cleo, 

“ She is not at home. Monsieur,” said Elise. 
“ She is gone.” 

“ Gone ! ” repeated Mark. “ Gone where ? 
I suppose she will return in an hour or two. 
I will come again later.” 

“ Has not Monsieur heard that Mrs. Patrick 
has gone to Egypt with the Pinkneys? She 
sailed nearly two weeks ago.” 

“ To Egypt? ” echoed Mark, aghast. 


87 


The Egyptian Ring. 

‘‘Yes, Monsieur; but I have a package she 
left with me for you. Excuse me, Monsieur, 
I will bring it.” 

In a few moments Elise returned and handed 
a small package to Mark, who took it mechan- 
ically, and, after thanking the girl, turned and 
quickly walked away. He hurried to his home, 
and went immediately to his own private room, 
that he might be entirely alone. As soon as he 
reached it he locked himself in, and frantically 
tore the wrappings from the package. A velvet 
box and a letter were disclosed. He opened the 
box, and beheld the lovely face of Cleo gazing 
at him. 

“ God bless her ! ” he murmured. He then 
opened the letter and read the following lines : 

“ My Dear Mark : 

“You will doubtless be much surprised to 
find me gone upon your return home, and I 
must say I am going somewhat reluctantly; 
but Mr. Patrick insists upon my taking this 
trip, as he fancies I am not looking well. I 
assure you, however, there is little the matter 
with me. I am only a litle tired. But perhaps 
it may be well for me to go, for lately I have 


88 


The Egyptian Ring. 

thought, my friend, t!hat you have seemed pre- 
occupied and dissatisfied, and that you seemed 
to seek the society of others more than you 
used to do. Can it be that you regret ? There 
may be another who has a claim which I have 
usurped unawares. So I will go, and give you 
time to find out your heart’s desire, but do not 
imagine that I have seen any diminution in 
your great kindness to me. 

“ Enclosed with this I leave the miniature 
you asked me to have painted for you. Think 
of me kindly; and until we meet, 

‘‘ Adieu.’’ 

What a strange letter ! ” mused Mark. I 
do not understand it. What can she mean 
by another who has a claim? It looks as 
though some one had been slandering me. 
There is some mystery here. Can that cat have 
had any hand in this? I may be obliged to 
proceed a little farther in my investigation than 
I intended at first; but I cannot see why she 
should interfere between Cleo and myself. 
My poor Cleo ! Ill, too ! — oh, why did I leave 
her!” 


The Egyptian Ring. 89 

He brooded long and sorrowfully. At last 
he roused himself. 

“ I must see that woman ! To-day, too. I 
can endure this suspense no longer.’’ 

Again he donned his hat and overcoat and 
went forth into the street. The day was well 
advanced. Mark went directly to the residence 
of Vivian Sinclair. She entered the drawing- 
room shortly after he was announced, richly 
dressed, her face wreathed in smiles. 

My dear Mark!” she cried. “Welcome 
home!” 

Mark greeted her most affably and seated 
himself near her. His eye wandered to her 
neck, but he saw nothing to arouse his suspic- 
ions. The talk drifted from one subject to an- 
other. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ it seems good to be home 
again among civilized beings. Hunting up 
serpent mounds, you know, isn’t exactly going 
to the opera. And that reminds me, that I am 
starving for a little music. Do sing me one of 
your charming songs, and I will turn your 
leaves in the most approved society manner.” 

Vivian glowed with pleasure and seated her- 
self at the piano. 


90 The Egyptian Ring. 

Mark strode across the room and took his 
place beside her to turn the leaves of her music. 
Being very tall he towered above her. She 
struck the keys and began a prelude, while his 
eyes wandered to her fair, white neck. Could 
it be? Yes, unmistakably there it was, a faint 
pink line just inside the filmy lace at her throat. 

The sight enraged Mark ; he was beside him- 
self. In a moment one hand firmly grasped the 
silken cord (now somewhat weakened by daily 
wear), while the other tore it asunder, and 
Mark stood there in his just wrath, grasping 
the cord from which dangled the little pink bag, 
now frayed and worn. He glanced at the bag, 
and through the frayed edges he beheld the 
gleam of greenish blue which told him plainer 
than words what the bag contained. 

He took his knife from his pocket, and open- 
ing the bag, held up, exultantly, Cleo's tur- 
quoise ring. 

You miserable wretch ! ’’ cried Mark. 
‘‘What does this mean? You thief! You 
fiend! Why, why? I say, did you do this 
thing? 

Vivian cowered. 

“Mark!'' she gasped. “Oh, Mark! In 


91 


The Egyptian Ring. 

Heaven’s name hear me, and forgive me. Can- 
not you see ? ” she cried, miserably. “ I heard 
that ring of Cleo’s had magic power; that it 
would bring the one you loved to your feet. I 
coveted it. I hoped it would make you love 
me. 

''Love you!'' he shrieked. ‘‘You! — I de- 
spise you. Do you know what you have done ? 
You have cruelly and wantonly tortured the 
only woman I have ever loved, . my promised 
wife.” 

“Your promised wife?” repeated Vivian. 
“ Are you going to marry Cleo Patrick, 
Mark?” 

“ God willing, I am,” said Mark, solemnly. 

Vivian sank into a chair. She was haggard, 
pale, and worn looking. She seemed to have 
aged ten years in as many moments. 

“ What shall I do ? ” she moaned. “ Lost 1 
ruined ! despised I Oh, that I were dead ! ” 

Mark looked at her and something like pity 
entered his heart. 

“ Vivian,” he said, more gently, “ you have 
committed a crime which would cause your 
name to be abhorred should this story ever be 
known. Through your perfidy my poor Cleo 


92 


The Egyptian Ring. 


is now a wanderer thousands of miles away; 
but I shall start for Egypt immediately, in 
search of my poor girl. So, you see, your evil 
deeds have availed you nothing. I never loved 
you, — I never could, — and if there was not an- 
other woman in the world I would not marry 
you. But you are a woman; you have a very 
respectable family, and — I will spare you and 
them. Your evil story shall never be made 
public. You know you can trust me for that. 
From to-day, I pass out of your life. Forget 
that I ever existed, and try to be a better wo- 
man.^^ 

So saying, he turned and left her forever. 


The Egyptian Ring. 


93 


CHAPTER XI. 

“ What can I give thee back, O liberal and princely giver, 

Who has brought the gold and purple of thine heart un- 
stained ? ” 

—Mrs. Browning, “ Sonnets from the Portuguese.” 

Mark Anthony recrossed the Atlantic in 
the first steamer which left the harbor of Bos- 
ton. He made no stops excepting what were 
absolutely demanded by the journey. He soon 
found himself upon English ground. Again 
and again he hastened on without delay; Mar- 
seilles, Malta, Alexandria, had no attractions 
for him ; day and night he travelled on, until he 
was once again in Cairo. 

He drove directly to Shepherd’s Hotel and 
engaged comfortable rooms. Tired and nearly 
worn out by his long journey, he took a light 
lunch and retired to rest, utterly oblivious to the 
heat and noise. 

The next morning he awoke much refreshed. 
He rang his bell ; a native servant appeared in 
answer to the summons. Mark ordered him to 


94 


The Egyptian Ring. 


bring coffee and rolls, and when he returned 
with the desired articles, proceeded to question 
him closely. 

Many visitors in the house ? ’’ he inquired. 

Oh, yes, there are many,” was the reply. 
‘‘ Several Turkish gentlemen, also French and 
Russian; an English milord, and a party of 
Americans.” 

“ How many Americans ? ” asked Mark. 

“ Well,” said the man, in this party were an 
elderly gentleman and his lady, with their 
daughter, and another one, very charming.” 

Do you know their names ? ” 

'' No, excellency, I do not, but I can ascer- 
tain.” 

Very well, then. Find out immediately. 
I say, what’s your name ? ” 

Yussef, your excellency,” answered the 
man; and he hurried away for the desired in- 
formation. He soon returned with the names 
of the party. 

Mr. and Mrs. Pinkney and their daughter, 
and the lovely lady was Mrs. Patrick.” 

Mark’s heart beat with pleasure. She was 
safe, well and near him. It was enough. 

He thanked Yussef and dropped a coin in his 


The Egyptian Ring. 95 

hand which caused him to stare in surprise at 
its size. 

Mark now proceeded to dress himself with 
unusual care. When he was ready he de- 
scended to the garden below. Almost the first 
person he beheld was Mrs. Pinkney, pacing 
slowly along the walks, and holding a sun um- 
brella over her head. 

Mark advanced when she was not looking his 
way, and, reaching out, lightly took the um- 
brella from her hand. 

‘‘Allow me to carry your umbrella, Mrs. 
Pinkney ? ” he said, in a hearty voice, watching 
the effect of his sudden appearance, with laugh- 
ing eyes and mouth. 

“ Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! ” 
she cried. “ Mark Anthony ! You here ? ” 

“ Why not, Mrs. Pinkney ? ” answered Mark. 
“You know Egypt is my happy hunting- 
ground. I am always here, more or less.” 

The astute lady gazed at him thoughtfully. 

“ You cannot fool me, my boy,” she thought. 
“ You have not posted way over here for antiq- 
uities this time. You are after nothing older 
than Cleo Patrick. I see it all now ; they’ve had 
some sort of misunderstanding, and I’m not a 


The Egyptian Ring. 


96 

true Bostonian if I don’t set matters right be- 
tween them.” 

She said nothing of her suspicions, but plied 
him with questions about mutual friends in 
Boston. All the time her busy brain was at 
work. 

“ How are you enjoying your trip? ” he in- 
quired. 

‘‘ Very much,” she replied, only I am some- 
what worried about Mrs. Patrick. You know 
she came along with us, and she seems so mis- 
erable. By the way, Mark, you could do me a 
great favor this morning — a great, big favor. 
I wonder if you would ? ” 

“ You can rely upon me, Mrs. Pinkney, 
' even to the half of my kingdom.’ ” 

Well, then, order some sort of conveyance 
and follow our party out to the Pyramids. 
That foolish Ruth of mine insisted upon mak- 
ing an attempt to climb Cheops to-day. Mrs. 
Patrick has gone with Ruth and her father, but 
there is an English lord, who is staying here 
in the house, who has annoyed Cleo exceedingly 
by his unwelcome attentions. His name is 
Bittulph. As soon as he ascertained this morn- 
ing where our party were going, I heard him 


97 


The Egyptian Ring. 

order a lunch put up and a carriage, and I am 
afraid he will follow them out there and spoil 
poor Cleo’s pleasure. Go out, Mark, won’t 
you? I cannot tell you how persistently Lord 
Bittulph has worried Cleo by his persecutions ; 
for I call it little less.” 

Mark hurriedly assured Mrs. Pinkney he 
would go at once. He rushed off to find 
Yussef, and ordered him to call a carriage with 
fast horses and have a nice lunch put up. In 
half an hour all was ready, and the carriage 
rolled away out over the Pyramid road. 

The ride out to the Pyramids was enchant- 
ing. The fine macadamized road would have 
done credit to a Parisian boulevard. The soft, 
balmy air was restful, and quieted Mark’s un- 
strung nerves. The sky was the warm blue of 
the tropics, and cutting clearly against it were 
the straight, sharp lines of the Pyramids. 

In an hour and a half he arrived within ten 
minutes’ walk of the Pyramids. He left the 
carriage in charge of the driver, and proceeded 
to walk on alone. As he drew near he looked 
up and beheld Mr. Pinkney and Ruth, who had 
apparently begun the ascent but a short time 
before. Ruth recognized him, and frantically 
7 


98 


The Egyptian Ring. 


waved her handkerchief, like Bluebeard’s sister- 
in-law, at the same time pointing to one side 
with her finger. 

“ She must mean Cleo,” he thought, for well 
he knew his secret had been guessed by his 
friends at home. 

Cleo is there ; I will go around.” 

He nodded his head and started around the 
base of Cheops. The immense granite blocks 
hid the other side, but as he drew near he heard 
the sound of voices, unmistakably English. 

I absolutely refuse to take that answer,” 
he heard a man’s deep voice saying ; ‘‘ you shall 
be my wife. I will worry you until you are 
glad to marry me to get rid of me. Perhaps 
you will condescend to tell me your reasons 
for refusing to marry an English lord, who is 
rich enough to gratify your every whim? ” 

Mark had advanced quite near without being 
seen. He beheld Cleo gazing at the man with 
a look of abhorrence upon her face. 

‘‘ You cad ! ” shouted Mark, coming forward. 

I will tell you one reason why this lady will 
not marry you. It is because she is already my 
promised wife, and we are to be married within 
a week.” 


The Egyptian Ring. 99 

Cleo rushed towards him, her face suffused 
with color, and a happy light in her eyes. 

‘‘ Mark ! ” she cried. Oh, how glad I am 
to see you here.” 

Lord Bittulph glanced contemptuously at 
Mark, but was nevertheless much impressed by 
the Americanos stalwart form and apparent 
strength. 

‘‘ I have not done with this lady yet,’’ he 
said. 

‘‘ Yes, you have,” replied Mark, “ and mind 
what I say. If you ever again attempt to give 
her one moment’s annoyance, there will be one 
lord less in the British aristocracy. Good-day, 
sir. Come, Cleo, I have a carriage waiting.” 

Together they walked around to the spot 
where he had seen Ruth and her father. They 
found them just descending to the ground. 

“ Mark, my dear boy,” cried Mr. Pinkney. 
Ruth came forward and gave him her hand. 
‘‘ It is of no use,” she said, ruefully. “ No 
ascent for me; the fates forbid. This is the 
land of Kismet. This is the third time I’ve 
tried to go up old Cheops, and I won’t try 
again. No, I’ll go home to Boston and ‘ do ’ 
Bunker Hill monument instead. Serves me 
Lof C. 


100 


The Egyptian Ring. 


right, too, for I never saw that blessed shaft 
nearer than Boston. I see now I did not do my 
duty at home. I have wandered after strange 
gods.^^ 

“ You are still young. Miss Ruth,” said 
Mark. ‘‘ There is plenty of time for you to do 
your duty by Bunker Hill and the State 
House.” 

“ Bless its old golden dome ! ” cried Ruth. 
** How is every one in Boston ? ” 

‘‘ I’ll tell you what,” said Mark in reply. 
** You all come out to my carriage and lunch 
with me, and I will tell you what I can. I’ve 
brought out enough for a reception.” 

Every one agreed to Mark’s plan, and were 
soon enjoying their repast in true bohemian 
manner. There was no trace of the haughty 
Bostonian in that merry party. After lunch 
it was decided to return to the hotel. 

‘‘ I will go in the carriage with papa,” said 
Ruth, artfully, knowing well that Mark and 
Cleo were anxious for a quiet talk together. 
“ I can’t breathe with a lot in the carriage with 
me. Cleo, won’t you please ride back with Mr. 
Anthony, and give me half the carriage to 
myself?” 


lOI 


The Egyptian Ring. 

“You horrid, greedy, selfish girl,'’ cried 
Cleo, laughing. “ Well, I never push myself 
where I am not wanted. You can keep your 
old carriage all to yourself. I'm sure Mark's 
is much nicer." 

So it was settled that Cleo should drive back 
with Mark. He saw her comfortably seated, 
and, seating himself opposite to her, waited un- 
til the carriage was on its way. He then said, 
in a low voice, so that the driver could not over- 
hear : “ Cleo, why did you run away from 

me ? I will not ask you to explain this mystery 
to me now ; but after you become my wife you 
must tell me all about it ; and my wife you must 
become before the week is ended. I want the 
right to protect and defend you here in this 
strange land. I have brought the wedding-ring 
along with me." 

As he spoke he drew from his pocket a little 
jeweller's box and handed it to her. She me- 
chanically took it in her hand and lifted the 
cover like one in a dream. As she glanced at 
its contents, she started, and exclaimed in gen- 
uine surprise: 

“ My ring ! My blessed Egyptian ring ! 
Mark, where did you find it ? " 


102 


The Egyptian Ring. 

** Not to-day, dear. There is no time for 
explanations now, but later you shall know all. 
Cleo,’’ he continued, I am tired of playing 
hide-and-seek with you. I have followed you 
thousands of miles. Does not that prove my 
love and devotion? Now, I want my answer. 
Will you marry me within a week? ” 

‘‘ I think I shall be obliged to,” replied Cleo, 
laughing. As Lord Bittulph said, ‘ I shall 
be obliged to marry you to get rid of you.’ Yes, 
let it be as soon as you wish, Mark, for I have 
come to the conclusion I am not capable of tak- 
ing care of myself. Only do allow me time to 
get up a decent wedding gown. No self-re- 
specting woman likes to be dowdy at her wed- 
ding. You didn’t expect I travelled with a 
supply of wedding gowns in my baggage, did 
you? And this is such a delightful place to 
purchase silks and gauzes and tissues.” 

** Very well,” said Mark, “ I will give you 
just five days. This is Thursday. Let it be 
next Wednesday. Mr. Pinkney will give you 
away, and Ruth will be your bridesmaid. You 
ladies and a good modiste can do wonders in 
that time. Bless me ! ” he cried, in mock irony, 
** what comfort you will all take ! ” 


The Egyptian Ring. 


103 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ Love took up the glass of time, and turned it in his glowing 
hands : 

Every moment lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sand.” 

— Tennyson. 

“ A lady so richly clad as she — beautiful exceeding.” 

— Coleridge. 

As Mark left her to give "his orders for his 
trip to the Pyramids, Mrs. Pinkney turned and 
walked slowly towards the hotel. As she passed 
along the corridor on her way to her apart- 
ments, an attendant respectfully handed her a 
package of letters and papers. 

“ News from home,” she thought. ** These 
must have come in the same steamer with 
Mark.” 

She hastened to her room and read first the 
letters, then the papers. She was reading the 
latest of these, when she gave a startled excla- 
mation. 

‘‘ Good Heavens ! ” she exclaimed. ** Vivian 
Sinclair ! Suicide ! ” And she quickly read 


104 The Egyptian Ring. 

the description given with horribly minute at- 
tention to details. 

“ Poor, foolish girl,” at length sighed good 
Mrs. Pinkney. “ What could have led to such 
a thing? That girl had beauty, wealth, and 
a high social position ; and yet she could bring 
herself to commit such an act ! I cannot under- 
stand it.” 

Several hours later the merry party arrived 
from the Pyramids. They were all impressed 
with Mrs. Pinkney’s thoughtful and troubled 
face. She briefly told them of Vivian’s tragic 
death. A hush fell upon the party. 

Heaven give her rest and peace,” said 
Mark, impressively. But it was not until Cleo 
had been his cherished wife for many months 
that she knew the truth concerning Vivian’s 
death and the finding of her Egyptian ring. 

The next few days were very busy ones for 
Cleo and her lady friends; happy days they 
were, too. There were visits to the various 
oriental bazars where everything from attar of 
roses to oriental carpets were for sale. Cleo 
fairly revelled in the exquisite fabrics offered 
for her choice. The selection of the bridal 


The Egyptian Ring. 105 

dress was finally accomplished, and the modiste 
went to work to fashion the gown within the 
appointed time. 

Mark was no less busy in his way. He hired 
the largest apartment possible, and ordered it 
lavishly decorated with palms, papyrus, and 
lotus. Then he engaged a fine orchestra, and 
ordered the wedding breakfast to be served by 
the chef of the hotel. 

The eventful Wednesday at length arrived. 
Cleo appeared at the appointed time leaning 
upon the arm of Mr. Pinkney — a vision of 
loveliness. She was dressed in a flowing robe 
of some gauzy. Eastern fabric, as light in tex- 
ture and weight as thistledown. It was a deep, 
creamy white in color, and nearly covered with 
delicate tracings in golden thread. She wore 
no jewels, excepting a long chain of costly 
pearls, the gift of the groom. 

“ Pearls for my Cleopatra,” he said, as he 
threw the chain over her graceful head. 

Cleo insisted upon using her fateful ring at 
the marriage service. And there in mystic 
Egypt, beside the ancient Nile, surrounded by 
the lotus and the palm, Mark claimed his bride, 
Antony his Cleopatra. 

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